


The Diary of an Emo Kid

by thelotusflower



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Attempt at Humor, College AU, M/M, Main 4 friendship, a return of crenny friendship ladies gents and non-binaries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-24 03:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30066093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelotusflower/pseuds/thelotusflower
Summary: After Kenny discovers that Stan had a crush on him in middle school, shit hits the fan.
Relationships: (Past and Mentioned), Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Stan Marsh/Kenny McCormick
Comments: 22
Kudos: 22





	1. The Diary

**Author's Note:**

> this was a prompt I found on Tumblr! I lost it though, so sorry haha, hope u enjoy
> 
> title is based off diary of a wimpy kid hahaha

Stan was not sure why he thought it was a good idea to invite his friends to help him clean out his room and pack for college. Perhaps, he was just desperate for the extra time with them or thought it would somehow make the activity more fun. He was wrong though. His friends were a mere distraction to the task. They had been at it for _hours_ and only had half the room done.

He was _beyond_ grateful when Cartman decided his summer day would be better spent away from the group — specifically Kyle. He dragged Butters with him, and shortly after, Kyle’s mother called him home for dinner. It left him with Kenny, who he had to admit was the _most_ helpful and _least_ annoying of his friends.

He spoke too soon though.

After most of his friends left, they managed to start getting things done. His headache from Kyle and Cartman’s bickering dispersed, and he got most of his stuff packed, in donation boxes, or trashed. He told Kenny he could pick through any of the things Stan did not want. Kenny took the offer with gratitude; throwing a few sweatshirts and jeans into his own trash bag to take home.

It was all going well until Kenny found his old middle school diary — that he swore he threw away years ago. He didn’t’ even notice at first; too busy sorting through the crap that cluttered his top dresser drawer — where he thought the diary _would_ be. Instead, the journal was on the top shelf of his closet — the closet Stan said Kenny could go through for anything he wanted to take; Stan having already pulled the clothes he would take to college.

The first thing he heard was snickering, which he ignored. Kenny found humor in most things, and Stan was trying to concentrate. Although that became impossible when Kenny began to _recite_ his journal entries. “ _Today, Kenny came to school today wearing a scarf that Karen made him. He looked so cute. I just wanted to pull on the scarf so he would fall into my arms and I could kiss him.”_

Stan’s heart _stopped._ He was sure this was some kind of hell. He must had died and this was the punishment for living a life of sin. He was _frozen._ He wanted to stop him; pull the diary away, but he couldn’t even manage to crane his neck to _look_ at him. All he could do was slowly blink, hoping that his reckless beating heart would not be too loud for Kenny to hear.

“ _I cannot stop thinking about him. I am losing sleep over him. I think that I might be gay. These certainly feel like gay feelings —_ they certainly do, Stan.”

He bolted over to the laughing male, snatching the diary away from him. He couldn’t look at him — too mortified. He suddenly wished that Kenny left with his other friends. He turned away from him in an attempt to hide his blush. He could not speak; sputter a single fucking word. This was his worst nightmare.

“Stan, relax,” Kenny stepped closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, “I’m flattered. I think you look cute in scarves too — and pulling me by the scarf to kiss me? Damn. That’s so sexy. I need to remember to wear more scarves around you, huh?”

Stan tensed, his shoulders rolling backward. Kenny let go and came around to face him; a tender, closed smile on his face. “Hey, Stan, seriously. It’s not a big deal.”

“I wrote that when I was twelve,” Stan hurried the words out, avoiding his eye contact and instead focusing on his ear.

“Could have fooled me; the literacy of that is like my level _now_. You sure it ain’t from a little more recent?”

“Shut up — I’m positive,” Stan rolled his eyes, huffing out a breath as he stared at his carpet. He wished that he could just hide under his covers and never come out. “Just stop it.”

“But you’re so cute — especially when you’re like this. You got blush all over, Marsh. I never knew I was capable of doing that to the star quarter back — soon linebacker of the Golden Bears.”

“Kenny, stop, already, it’s not funny.”

“What if I’m not joking?”

Stan’s wide eyes clicked to Kenny’s. He was no longer smiling, and instead, appeared serious; his lips pressed together in a straight line and eyebrow quirked up.

Kenny was attractive. Obviously, Stan realized this at a young age. He had hair made of gold and big brown eyes that were easy to get lost in. As he got older, he only became more attractive — his jawline appearing increasingly sharper and his cheekbones seemingly becoming higher. He was gorgeous, and Stan was well aware of that, but it wasn’t worth it.

“Then I would think you’re really stupid for wanting to ruin our friendship for that,”

Their eyes flickered against each other; Kenny’s expression unchanging. For a moment, Stan worried that he offended him. He sucked in breath, about to amend it, before Kenny smirked and said, “relax, I’m just kidding.”

Stan released a sigh of relief before nodding. He felt even more embarrassed than before. He turned away and shoved the diary into the trash, then glanced back at Kenny with a frown. “Please don’t tell Cartman”

“What kind of friend would I be if I did that?”

“I don’t know — you did just go through my diary.”

“I thought it was gonna be one of the lyric books from Crimson Dawn days! And then I saw my name, and you can’t be mad at me for being curious,”

Stan rolled his eyes and looked away. He wandered to his dresser drawer and picked up where he left off; keeping his eyes off of Kenny. “I can, actually, but whatever. It’s fine… just, can we forget about it? Change the subject at least?”

“Sure,”

The subject did not change though. Instead they were sucked into an excruciating silence that filled his whole body with nerves, and left his mind at a hardly operating level as he sifted through his belongings.

“So… how long did you like me?”

His hands froze on the belongings in the dresser; his heart yet again freezing in beat as well. He huffed out a breath. “I don’t remember.” This was a lie. He liked him for about two years. “Maybe a few weeks? It’s not a big deal. I was just trying to figure out my sexuality.”

That seemed to be enough for Kenny because he finally shut up about it. Not much else was said between them for the rest of the evening. Stan’s mother invited Kenny to stay for dinner, and after texting Karen to confirm she was still at the Tuckers, he agreed to stay. His mother asked if they found anything interesting, to which Stan said _not really_ to, although he felt Kenny eyes on him as he said this.

When he finally left, he debated to tell Kyle what happened. Kyle was the first person he came out to — the only other person who knew of his once crush on Kenny. He could reach out to him about this; although, what would he even say? He wasn’t even sure how he felt besides embarrassment.

In the end, he decided to not tell him. Instead, he just went to sleep early; happy that in a couple weeks he would be off to college and away from this situation.

-

The first semester of college was rough. It was more difficult than high school and he strongly felt the public school system did not prepare him fully for it. He managed to pass his classes, at least — his worst grade resulting in a C.

In addition to difficult curriculum, he missed his friends. He managed to get along well enough with his roommate and a few of his teammates, but it was not the same as how it was with his friends, back home. With his teammates, he mostly got drunk and partied. His roommate was nice enough, but they did not have a lot in common.

Stan was the last of his friends to return home. Although, this really only meant after Butters and Kyle, since Cartman and Kenny remained in South Park. Cartman claimed college was a scam, and Kenny had to stay home to take care of Karen — his parents being unreliable and Kevin serving a two year prison sentence for something drug related.

The first person he saw was Kyle. He was not sure what Cartman was up to, but Kyle mentioned how he and Butters would come around later — something about how the people of South Park owed Cartman money. Kyle was sure he was selling some type of drug, but Cartman would not disclose it. Their other friend, Kenny was at work, and would stop by after.

It gave him some time to catch up with Kyle. They had stayed in touch, texting a lot, but it was much better to see him in person. He deeply missed his friends, and it felt as though he lost a part of himself when he went to California.

As promised, Kenny, Cartman, and Butters showed up later. Cartman was sifting through a pile of cash, and was immediately flaunting it in front of Stan — making him wonder how he missed Cartman at all. Butters looked different — managing in only a couple months to completely turn his look around with dyed beach blonde hair, an undercut, and a couple tattoos. It made him realize how much time had passed between them, resulting in a long hug.

As for Kenny, he looked remotely the same; still the same, handsome, scrawny kid. He looked the same, yet, he found it hard to look away. He hadn’t forgotten about the diary. He wondered if Kenny had. He had never told Kyle — or anyone else for that matter — what happened. He hadn’t heard anything from Cartman about it either, so he assumed Kenny kept his mouth shut, as well.

He looked good; he _always_ looked good, and he in fact, recognized the sweatshirt he wore as one of his old ones. When he hugged him, he held tightly; maybe a little more tightly than he had with the others, as Kenny had always been a pillar of support for him. He was always a shoulder to cry on; much more comforting than Kyle, or Cartman, or even Butters. When they both let go, Stan didn’t comment on the sweatshirt.

Things quickly fell back into normalcy within the group — making it feel as though they were never apart at all, until they all began retelling stories of their time apart, proving they really were. Kyle barely left his dorm, swamped in his books; Butters made a lot of good friends, which led to his makeover; Cartman _was_ selling an assortment of drugs, involving Adderall and Xanax, and Kenny was working his life away.

Kenny was working his life away, _and_ apparently, according to Cartman, replacing him with Craig Tucker. Kenny denied the claim, saying no one could replace Cartman, which was true, but did confirm he _was_ hanging out with Craig more. However, Craig refused to hang out with Cartman, resulting in Cartman whining about it.

Stan found it interesting. He _immediately_ began to wonder if the two were hooking up. Tweek had left for Juilliard in the fall, resulting in a break up between the two, and leaving Craig available. Kenny slept with a number of people. He could probably get anyone he wanted because he was charming, flirty, and very good-looking. If Craig was _single_ and they were _hanging out,_ Stan didn’t see a possibility where the two weren’t sleeping together. Craig was not bad looking, and with both of them stuck in South Park, what better did they have to do?  
  


He shouldn’t have _cared_ , but for some reason he did. The thought of the two somehow intertwined in that way made him feel disgusted. He hadn’t felt this way about Kenny sleeping with anyone since early high school. He didn’t know why it felt worse being Craig Tucker. Maybe because they were in the same friend group and it was just too close to home.

He found an entryway to ask later that night when he left outside with Kenny for a smoke break.

As they sat together on his porch, it occurred to him that this was the their first time alone together, since the diary incident. The thought struck him odd, although, only two weeks after that happened, he left for college.

He wanted it to come off as smooth — _casual,_ but instead what tumbled out of his mouth was: “so you and Craig — you guys hooking up?”

Kenny’s lips curved into a smile as he brought his cigarette down form his mouth. He raised his eyebrows, “why? You want to have a threesome?”

He scowled; feeling his face burn as he bowed his head down. “No. Forget I asked.”

“We aren’t hooking up,” Kenny clarified. “Dude’s pretty depressed. I don’t think he even has his mind on sex at all.”

“Because of Tweek leaving?” Stan lifted his gaze to his friend once more.

Kenny shrugged, taking a drag. “Could be — I don’t know. He isn’t very keen on touching on his feelings. He just seems pretty low to me, but maybe you’re right, maybe a blow job would cheer him up,”

Stan winced. He fucking caused this. He doesn’t even know why he fucking cared. He stopped liking Kenny years ago. He should not care who he hooked up with, even if it is one of their friends. He felt like he _would_ be indifferent if Kenny didn’t find his stupid diary.

“I’m just kidding,” Kenny stated.

Stan didn’t know what to say. He did his best to keep a neutral expression as he looked up at him.

“Honestly? I haven’t really been with anyone, recently,” Kenny offered, pulling his cigarette away from his mouth to examine it. “Maybe I’m depressed, too.”

Stan gulped. He probably would be depressed, too, if he was still in South Park — stuck with only Craig or Cartman to hang out with. “Why’s that?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I suppose I just miss you guys,” Kenny turned his head to stare out to the field, lips pressed together. “It’s different round here. It’s hard to get used to, and I don’t know. I guess it’s more than that too…”

Stan swallowed, staring at his side profile.

“What is it then?”

“To be honest with you, Stan… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that little diary entry of yours,”

Stan’s heart sank into his chest. “Uh, what about it?”

“I don’t know… I mean, I do _know,_ actually, but… shit,” Kenny huffed out a breath, hanging his head low as he took another drag. He hollowed out his cheeks and blew out some smoke, his eyes still trained on the field ahead of him.

Stan kept his eyes on him; his numbing cheeks begging him to head back inside, but his frenzied mind was intent on hearing what Kenny had to say. He was somewhat nervous to hear it. Part of him thought it might be some kind of joke.

“I don’t know, dude. I think I might have caught what you had.”

“Caught?”

Kenny lifted his head to look at him directly. He jutted out his chin, “you know, I think. I think I have a crush on you, or something.”  
  


Stan widened his eyes, dipping his chin down. He blinked a few times, wondering if he heard that wrong. “You what?”

“I think I like you, dude. Like — I don’t know. You got under my skin or something… I’ve — I miss you, and think about you… all the time,”

Stan stared, unsure what to say. His mouth hung open as he searched the other’s expression. “No, no — you probably, you probably just miss me, dude.”  
  


“Really?” Kenny chuckled dryly, “cause I miss Kyle, and I’m not having these feelings about him.”

Stan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He would have loved to hear these words from Kenny years ago, but he swore to always put their friendship first since then. “Kenny… I — I don’t,” he bowed his head down and swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You don’t have feelings for me?”

“It’s not even that,” Stan beckoned before he could stop himself. Truthfully, he didn’t think he ever fully got over Kenny. There was a part of him that still held feelings for the other man, but there was bigger part of him that knew it was a bad idea. “Look, Kenny, I — I just can’t risk our friendship. You, you guys are all I have — you are family,” he met his amber eyes.

Kenny frowned, flickering his eyes down as he put out his cigarette on the porch. “You think I’d fuck it up?”

“No, not at _all._ I think _I_ would, and I can’t let myself fuck this up… what we have… it’s good. It’s,” he found tears suddenly in his eyes. He blinked them away hurriedly before Kenny could see. “It’s the way things are supposed to be.”

“Supposed to be, huh?” Kenny eyed him, perking an eyebrow. “Says who?”

Stan shrugged. “It’s just the way things have always been, Ken. And your feelings for me… they’ll fade.”

Kenny looked away, shoulders falling with the release of a cloud from his mouth. “I mean — Yeah, I care about our friendship, too… a lot. And if you think this is what’s best for it, I trust you too,” he looked over to Stan.

Stan frowned. He could see Kenny was hurting, but he just couldn’t bring himself to potentially damage their friendship like that. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Kenny offered a tender smile, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “I just had to tell you,” he pulled his hand back, turning his attention back to the field. He shrugged one shoulder, “I don’t know. Maybe I should be the sorry one, even.”

“No,” Stan immediately objected, “you shouldn’t.”

Kenny nodded. “Well, _California,”_ he stood up and looked down at Stan. “We better get you back inside. We don’t want you to freeze to death,” Kenny extended a hand out to him.

Stan stared up at him with sad eyes, however, Kenny looked completely fine; eyes beaming and wearing a perfect, crooked grin. He swallowed his grief, pain and longing, before grabbing ahold of his friend’s hand to hoist himself up. “Fuck off, dude. I still have Colorado blood,”

Kenny sniggered, patting his back to guide him back to the front door. “Yeah, yeah, _California._ I saw you shivering.”

“It is a normal bodily reaction!”

“Uh huh,”

Just like that, things were back to normal between the two, and Stan was left wondering if he made the right choice.


	2. Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this was originally gonna be 2 chapters, but....... now it’s ... gonna be slightly longer, but definitely no longer than like ??? 10 chapters. probably way less, like probaby 6 or like shorter even, i have no idea. anyways.
> 
> sorry for any typos. i only briefly read it over! i will change shit later probably

Once again, Stan was the last to arrive back in South Park.

After his plane landed and his mother picked him up from the airport, his parents forced him to participate in a family dinner that mostly consisted of forced conversation, awkward silences, and his father’s incessant nonsense rambling. He didn’t think he would ever miss Shelly, and he honestly _didn’t,_ but if she had been there, at least they would have shared in the suffering. Instead, she was living with some thirty-five-year-old that his mother hated.

Stan was more than relieved when dinner was over. He had been texting his friends throughout it and planned to meet up with them at Cartman’s. He took his father’s pickup truck, but his father _forced_ him to drop him off at Skeeter’s along the way; making the drive to South Park seem ridiculously longer than it was.

When he arrived at Skeeters, his father _forced_ him inside to gloat to all the other middle-aged men inside. Stan rolled his eyes the whole time but was surprised at the newly gained respect from the other middle-aged men. He was a _football star,_ they said.

He managed to escape after a shot was forced upon him, along with multiple pats on the back and complaints about his couch. While Stan loved to talk about football, he wanted to see his friends, and more importantly, get away from his father.

He sent an apology text to his friends for being so late and then headed over. As he was driving, he saw only a reply from Butters that read, _that’s okay fella!_ He rolled his eyes at the lack of response from the others but decided it did not matter.

Liane let him in, grabbing his arm as he passed her by, mentioning how much he had filled out since she saw him last. He merely scowled in response, letting out a muttered _thanks_ before heading towards the basement.

He heard them before he saw them — the bickering between Cartman and Kyle, and Butters’ side comments. He grinned as he descended the staircase. The backs of their heads faced him, but he couldn’t help but notice that Kenny was gone. His smile dispersed.

They all turned around, smiling brightly at him. Kyle stood up and ran towards him, succumbing him in a hug that was followed by a hug from Butters. Cartman was the last to hug him, mumbling something about how Stan was almost as buff as him now, which Stan rolled his eyes to.

When the hug session came to an end, he asked, “where’s Kenny?”

“He had to go — something about his parents letting in a bunch of homeless meth heads into their house,” Cartman shrugged, turning back towards the couch. “Typical Kenny.”

“Is he coming back?” Stan asked, turning to Kyle as more of a reliable source.

“He felt really bad about it, but — I don’t know. I’m not sure how long that would take. Karen was pretty messed up about it, I don’t think he’d leave her alone for the night,”

“I mean, she could _come?”_ Stan suggested.

Kyle nodded, “yeah, for sure,” he pats him on the back. “Why don’t you send him a text, or call, or something?” he suggested before turning around back to the couch.

Butters stood before him, frowning. “Ken seemed upset about the whole thing — he was excited to see you, buddy. He just, you know, gotta put family first,”

Stan nodded, feeling a certain kind of emptiness weigh upon him. Butters followed the other two back to the couch, and Stan worried his bottom lip as he pulled out his phone to give Kenny a call. He wondered why his friends didn’t just go _with_ him.

With no answer, he sent him a text instead, and joined his friends on the couch; doing his best to ignore the disappointment he felt weighing down upon him.

After nearly an hour of not receiving a text from Kenny, he decided to go check on him. He asked if his friends wanted to come, but they were too intrigued with their game of Madden. Stan declared that he would see them later, and drove to the other side of the neighborhood. He rolled his eyes as he passed the abandoned Sodosopa district; still taking up space, and most likely home to squatters and meth heads.

He had not been to Kenny’s house many times. They never really hung out here. He didn’t know if he was welcome, but he hadn’t seen Kenny in months, and he was _supposed_ to see him tonight. He wanted to make sure everything was okay, and he wasn’t answering his phone.

He knocked a couple of times, and a few seconds later, he heard Kenny’s voice ask, “ _who is it?”_

“Stan,”

The door opened and Kenny grinned at him with wide eyes, before pulling him into an immediate hug. It was more comforting than the others’ hugs. He kind of always thought this about Kenny’s hugs though — they were always the best.

“Dude! What are you doing here?” he pulled away, grin still attached to his lightly freckled face.

“I — I wanted to see you, ya know. I was late — so like, it was my fault I missed out on you, and I heard you had to deal with some shit. I tried calling you, but,”

“Phone’s dead,” Kenny frowned. “And I don’t know where the fuck any chargers are. I think my parents sold ‘em’ or something,” he rolled his eyes. “You wanna come in?” he asked.

“Sure,”

Kenny allowed him inside and Stan passed through. It had been a while since he last stepped foot inside the McCormick residence. His eyes immediately locked onto his parents who were passed out on the floor, and then a couch he had never seen before in front of their TV.

“New couch?”

“Hell yeah, dude. I got it. Too many cigarette holes in the other — worried I’d fall through. You wanna sit?”

“Sure,” Stan offered a puff of laughter.

They slumped down onto the couch together, glancing at each other with a grin while doing so. Stan got comfortable and nodded in approval, looking towards Kenny, “it’s a nice couch.”

  
“Right. It’s used, but hardly. I was painting this lady’s house, and she sold it to me for sixty bucks.”

“Good deal,” Stan smoothed his hand alongside the fabric of the couch. “It’s better than the dingy one I have in my dorm.”

“Really?” Kenny beamed at him. “I’m more fancy-living than the line-backer of the Golden Bears? Would you look at that,” he shook his head, waggling his blonde eyebrows.

Stan laughed, “yeah dude, you should have seen my dorm. It’s like half the size of this living room, and I gotta share it with someone — it’s all just one space too. The only _room_ I have is the bathroom.”

“So, your roommate has seen you jerk it, then?” Kenny smirked, hitting him in the arm.

Stan blushed, ducking his head down. He shrugged, “possibly, honestly. You get pretty comfortable with one another. I did it under the covers though.”

“I think that counts as like an orgy, dude,”

Stan laughed, shoving his friend’s shoulder. “No, it fucking doesn’t, Kenny.”

“Is he hot? Your roommate?”

“Eh,” Stan shrugged, “not my type… he is sort of nerdy… like Kevin Stoley, or something… and also like Kevin Stoley, very straight.”

“Hey man, just cause their straight, doesn’t mean you can’t at least enjoy the view — before you came out, I probably checked you out over a hundred times,”

Stan felt his face go hot as he turned his head away. His mouth was suddenly dry. It wouldn’t have meant anything before that stupid diary, but it did now. “Eh, he’s not my type anyway.”

“What’s your type then?” Kenny asked, scooting closer. It made Stan’s heart skip a beat. He looked over, swallowing. He didn’t know what his _type_ as if he was being honest.

“I don’t know, but not nerdy,”

  
“Ah, so that’s why you had a crush on me and not Kyle,”

Stan’s heart was going to explode. He was going to cover Kenny’s new couch in his guts because he was sure this was the last of him. He didn’t know how to ever respond to Kenny. He always, permanently, and forever left him flustered.

Kenny laughed and slapped his shoulder, “relax. I’m kidding. Sorry, I know you get all weird when I bring it up. I promise I’ll stop.”

  
Stan shrugged, shaking his head. “Nah — it’s fine.”

He swallowed. Sometimes Kenny was so hard to read. The last time he saw him, he was confessing feelings for him, and now he was acting as if that never happened. He was joking around about it as if none of it had any effect on him.

“Did you get the meth heads out?” Stan asked, desperate for a topic change. “How is Karen?”

“Yeah I got ‘em’ out, and she is okay — sleeping. I would have come back over, but I felt guilty leaving after such a crazy night. Even if her girlfriend is with her.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Craig’s little sister,”

“Oh,” Stan furrowed his eyebrows, “When did that happen?”

“Found out a couple of months ago,” Kenny shrugged. “Could have happened before that though.”

Stan pondered this, and then thought back again to Craig; him and Kenny hanging out more often. “You still hang out with Craig a lot?”

“Yeah. He actually got me a job at the oil change place in town. I start on Monday,”

“Oh,” Stan nodded, “nice… good for you.”

“It pays pretty well, and I’m sick of working as a dishwasher,” Kenny explained, looking over at Stan.

Stan could feel him staring, but did not meet his gaze; worried that he would be able to read his mind if he did so. Although, it turned out Stan didn’t have to look at him at all. Kenny could read his mind anyway. “We still aren’t sleeping together, or any of that, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  
Stan attempted to hide the relief he felt but felt as though as if he failed as Kenny laughed.

“He isn’t really my type,” Kenny picked up the remote off the coffee table in front of him. He glanced back at Stan, “guess you could say nerds aren’t my type either,” he winked. “I like jocks.”

Stan’s cheeks went ablaze as he shook his head and stared at the TV as Kenny turned it on. He kicked him in the ankle as he said, “shut up, dude.”

Kenny sniggered and shut up about it; asking if he wanted to watch anything in particular. Stan merely shook his head, and Kenny turned on some late-night adult cartoons. Stan told himself that Kenny was over his crush on him by now; his flirting did not mean anything, and things were normal between them.

He was wrong.

-

The summer went on after that night with Kenny.

They didn’t spend much more alone time together, which was for the most part, normal. He didn’t spend much alone time with any of the members of his group. It was always kind of like that with them. He did however notice that in the slivers of moments alone, Kenny managed to throw in some mild flirting.

He again wrote it off as a joke.

Or maybe he wanted it to be a joke, so he went with that.

Some nights, he laid awake, wondering about Kenny. He wanted to ask if he still thought about him a lot. While away at college, he had thought of Kenny a lot. He thought about his other friends too, frequently, but his thoughts of Kenny were different; they were unmanageable. He could not _stop_ thinking about him. He passed it off as missing him, but now that he was back home, he was still thinking about him.

Other than that though, things were normal.

Well, for the most part.

Craig was sort of a member of their group now — hung up with them _enough_ where Stan began to expect him to be there. He didn’t mind it. He liked Craig for the most part, he just wondered _why_ he was hanging around them so often. His old friends were back in South Park.

One summer night, after an afternoon full of bike-riding and rollerblading, he asked him. They were sitting at the local park. He was beside Craig on the swings as the others were fighting over the tire swing a few feet away.

“Can I ask you a question?” Stan turned to the boy beside him.

Craig glanced at him and shrugged. “Okay.”

“Do you still hang out with Clyde and those guys? I just notice you hang out with us a lot now… but they used to be like your group, right?

Craig shifted in his swing, turning away slightly to look at the play equipment. “I hang out with Clyde, and Bebe,” he offered. “But not the rest.”

“Why not?”

Craig sighed. Stan thought he wouldn’t receive any more information from him as a long few seconds passed between them. His eyes fell on Kenny as he waited for Craig to speak. Kenny finally declared ownership of the tire swing and Kyle was pushing him.

“It’s awkward.”

Stan wanted to press for more, but he kind of thought that Craig would kick him if he did. “I thought that you and Tweek ended on good terms.”

“We did,” Craig said, “doesn’t make it any less weird… I just rather not be in that situation. I didn’t stay in touch with any of them, anyway, besides Bebe and Clyde.”

Stan nodded. He wasn’t sure why this made him so sad, but it did. He frowned and bowed his head down. He wondered how many semesters at college would pass before their group was in danger of parting. “Does that upset you?” Stan asked.

“Fuck off. No, that’s just life. You make new friends.”

“Are we _new_ friends? We’ve l been friends since like third grade.”

  
“Whatever,” Craig stood up. “I’m going to go on the tire swing.”

“Good luck,” Stan scoffed.

Craig flipped him off before he walked away. Stan stared as he walked over to the tire swing, pushing Kenny off. He watched as the two proceeded to get into a small fight, and sighed. They were all a bunch of children. As the two fought, Kyle took the spot on the swing and Cartman began to push him.

Eventually, Kenny gave up, and walked away, surprising Stan by taking the spot next to him.

“Man, Craig is such an asshole,” Kenny huffed, taking the swing which Craig sat last.

“No doubt there.”

“What are you doing all over here by your lonesome?” Kenny swung towards him, kicking him in the ankle.

“I was with Craig, but I think I got too personal with him, and he freaked out and left.”

Kenny laughed loudly. “Been there. What you bother him about?”

“Just… I don’t know. I asked him if he still hung out with Clyde and those guys… They used to be so close. It’s just weird to me… How you can spend so much time with a group of people, and then just… not care about them.”

Kenny shrugged. “Who knows with that dude. Maybe he cries himself to sleep every night about it. We don’t know.”

“Mm, maybe,”

“What’s with the interest in him?” Kenny asked.

Stan thought about it. He bit his bottom lip, eyeing the dirt and wood chips beneath his feet. “I just hope that never happens to us… ya know? I just… you guys are like family to me, and I just… I know people stop being friends after high school —,”

Kenny placed a hand over his own, causing Stan to snap his eyes up to him. The moonlight illuminated Kenny well; casting beautiful shadows along his angular face. Stan gulped. “Stan, we aren’t like normal people; we are gonna be friends, no matter what… even if one of us had an ex-boyfriend in this group… we would be friends.”

Stan didn’t know what to think of the words. He wondered if Kenny was referencing them or not. He nodded, “I hope so.”

“I _know_ so,” Kenny smiled, squeezing his hand before letting it go. “We’ve been through much worse shit than college.”

Stan nodded, eyes still locked onto amber. He wanted to believe him, and yet, he had his doubts, especially with the growing feelings for the person in front of him. He thought of Craig and Tweek, who dated most of their lives; spent so much time together and now, didn’t even talk. They ended on good terms, and yet, that’s not enough.

He needed these feelings to go away. He needed to prioritize this friendship — his _family_ above all else. He didn’t want to end up like Craig and those guys.


	3. Stan’s Got a Girlfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank You all so much! Hope you enjoy!!! <3 I have made an outline, and this will be 6 chapters. :)

When he gets back from winter break, it is not his parents who pick him up from the airport, but Kenny, Kyle and Butters.

Kenny bought a 1997 Geo Prizm from a ninety-three year old at Sandy Acres Nursing Home for $1,000 — with 40,000 miles on it. Stan is not sure how that _ethically_ worked out, considering Kenny is a nursing aide there now. He doubts they are allowed to _buy_ things off the residents, but no one comments on it. And if Stan is being honest, he really doesn’t care. He is just happy that Kenny has finally gotten himself a car even if it’s engine is _loud_ and in definite need of inspection.

Kyle is the first person to notice they are not headed to South Park.

“Kenny, you missed the exit,” he says from the passenger seat.

“Actually I didn’t. I figured we could visit our good pal, Eric.”

He hears Kyle groan. Stan furrows his eyebrows, “in prison?”

“Where else would the fat ass be?”

“I wasn’t sure if he escaped or not, yet.”

“We should just cut ties from him,” Kyle says. “We all knew he would end up here, and if we keep associating ourselves with him —,”

“Your dad was his lawyer,”

Kyle rolls his eyes, sinking down in his seat and crossing his arms. “Slime protects slime. Is it really surprising? I can’t believe he someone managed to knock the sentence down to eighteen months. He was selling Adderall to _high schoolers.”_

Kenny shrugs. “Not like I’m defending him, or anything, but in a town as fucked up as South Park? I’m surprised he got time at all.”

“How do you live here all year long?” Kyle sighs, dragging his gaze to outside the window.

“Aw, Kyle, it’s not that bad! I try to visit South Park at least every month,” Butters leans forward to press a hand to Kyle’s shoulder. “At least, I _did,_ when Eric was still around,”

Kyle looks over his shoulder at him with a grimace. “DU is like a _two hour_ drive.”

“Well, Eric said he was depressed, and needed me around,”

Kyle sighs and faces front. “It’s better he is locked up. He can’t torture anyone anymore, and he’s done much worse than selling minors adderall.”

Stan does not really care about Cartman being in prison. Honestly, out of all his friends, he misses him least. However it is strange. Cartman has been in their lives for so long — a common force of rage and bigotry that Stan has grown accustom to. He’ll be in prison for the next sixteen months though; out of their lives, and he is honestly not sure if Kyle will allow him back into their group.

His phone’s ringtone clears him through his thoughts. He reaches into his pocket to grab it. He suspects it is his parents, but then sees it is his girlfriend instead. “Hello?” he answers as he pulls the phone to his ear.

“ _Hey, Stan. Did your plane land?”_

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I forgot to text you. My friend just picked me up, and we are, um, going to visit another friend, and it’s just this whole _thing,”_

_“Thing? What do you mean?”_

“It’s just — um,” Stan wets his lips, glancing out the window. For some reason, telling his girlfriend who he has only been with for nearly a month that he is going to visit a friend in _prison_ seems too intense. “Just ya know, an old friend. It was just a surprise.”

“ _What’s their name? Why are you being weird?_ ”

“I’m not being weird. His name is Eric, all right? I gotta go. I’ll call you back later.”

Kyle looks back over his shoulder at him with raised eye brows. He glances between Butters’ wide eyes and then Kyle’s. “What?”

It’s neither of them who answer though. Instead it’s Kenny.

“Who was that?”

Stan flicks his blue eyes up at the amber ones he finds in the rearview mirror. Hesitation bubbles in his chest as he wets his lips. “My girlfriend.”

“You have a girlfriend?” Kenny ponders, raising his eyebrows. Before Stan has the chance to reply, Kenny turns his head to Kyle. “You know about this?” he asks.

“I know he has a girlfriend, but not much else about her.”

Stan watches Kenny return to his original position; once again staring at the back of his blonde head.

“Butters,” Kenny calls out, eyes still on the express way. “You know about this?” he asks.

Stan already knows of the answer. He winces, his shoulders rising as he waits for the response. “Yeah! I knew about her. You didn’t know Kenny?”

“Nope, guess I’m out of the loop,” Kenny says.

Stan darts his eyes to the back of his head, sucking in a breath of air, “I guess I just forgot to mention it.”

“No biggie,” Kenny responds.

Kenny has always been somewhat difficult to read, but after years of knowing him, he can tell from his tone that it is _biggie._ He doesn’t know why he didn’t tell Kenny. They’ve _talked_ recently; over FaceTime and text. It just seemed _wrong_ to bring it up to Kenny; his gut was wildly against it and still is. Even discussing it now, it feels wrong.

The silence of the car is loud, even through the indie music that blasts through the crappy speakers of Kenny’s Geo Prizm.

Kyle is the one to break it.

“You did sound weird on the phone.”

Stan sighs, looking down at his phone that now rests on his thigh. A notification banner looks flashes across his screen, signaling a text from his girlfriend. In the display of the message, he can see that she has asked if everything is okay.

“She doesn’t know how fucked up South Park is. I didn’t want to say I’m visiting one of my childhood best friends in _prison._ She is from San Diego — her life is normal.”

“Aw, gee, Stan. I don’t think she would have minded,” Butters offers him a warm smile, leaning over the middle seat to squeeze his shoulder. “I could hear her over the speaker, and she seemed concerned.”

Stan huffs out a breath. He mentioned that he was Bi, and he is pretty sure she is skeptical of all the people he hangs around with now. He is sure that her concern had more to do with jealousy than concern over his well-being.

“It’s weird,” Stan glares at Butters. “We have barely been dating a month. I’d like to keep my skeletons a little while longer.”

“I just tell people I’m from Denver,” Kyle states. “I told one person I was from South Park, and it was a massive mistake. They asked me a million questions about Garrison, and then I found out they _voted_ for him — _twice.”_

“He really did destroy the reputation,” Butters voices.

“It was already trash,” Kyle shrugs.

“Hey, come on, guys,” Stan shifts his gaze between them. “Kenny still lives there. Cut South Park some slack. It’s still our home.”

“It’s fine, Stan,” Kenny speaks for the first time since the revelation of his girlfriend. Stan isn’t sure, but it feels like everything has stopped as Kenny speaks — as if the music became _quieter._ “I don’t need you protecting me. I’m a strong, independent woman.”

Stan swallows, drifting his eyes down. He feels like that was a jab, although he cannot tell. Kenny cannot possibly still have feelings for him — it’s been nearly a year.

-

After an expansive pass through security, the guard guides them to the visitation room. The guard points to the booth at the end of the row, muttering something about booth seven. They nod and pass through. Stan keeps his head low, but takes a peak at the other prisoners and visitors.

  
A baby screams on the waiting bench beside them, and a woman cries in one of the stools to the right of him. It smells like sweat and metal, and even though he has his jacket on, he feels a chill run up his spine.

Cartman waits behind the glass at booth seven, looking pissed off and agitated. Even when he catches sight of them, the only thing that changes in his demeanor is the narrowing of his eyes. Kyle cackles beside him. Stan looks over with a stare of disapproval, but his best friend just continues to laugh. He at least has the decency to put his hand over his mouth in attempt to hide his laughter.

Cartman shakes his finger at Kyle, only causing his friend to laugh louder. He hears Kenny and looks over as his friend pushes Kyle forward towards the seat and glass shield. Kyle shakes a hand in front of him along with a shake of the head. “No way.”

Kenny laughs again and steps forward, falling into the stool in front of the glass wall. Cartman holds the phone to his ear already, waiting for Kenny. Instead Kenny props his elbows on the table and rests his chin in his hands. He grins at the angry man and slowly picks up the phone.

Stan does not hear what he says, but whatever it is makes Kenny fall into a fit of giggles. He turns his head over his shoulder to address Kyle. “He wants me to tell you that you’re a stupid Jew, and unwelcome here.”

Kyle smirks at him in response and flips him off.

Stan watches the rest of the conversation play out between Kenny and Cartman. His quiet friend in the car has turned loud now; rumbling with giggles and small talk. How is it that Kenny is warmer with Cartman than himself when he is the one that’s been thousands of miles away for months?

Eventually, Kenny directs the phone to Butters and leaves him to sit on the stool. Kenny stands on the other side of Kyle, whispering something in his ear to make him laugh. Stan glowers at them. Kyle has been home for days now. They have had _days_ to catch up.

He huffs out a breath as he looks at Butters and Cartman. Butters eyebrows are furrowed in worry and Cartman appears to be ordering him to do something. Stan finds himself losing the image of Cartman and Butters as his eyes drift again to Kyle and Kenny — laughing and chatty.

He watches them until Butters calls his name out and says Cartman asked for him.

His eyes drift to the ceiling. He suddenly just wants to be back in California; on the beach, or on the football field. Instead he is in some crusty, grimy prison; talking to some sociopath behind a glass wall.

He takes a seat in the stool, and picks up the phone.

“Hello, Cartman,”

“Stan, my favorite person. It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you too… behind this glass shield.”  
  


Cartman’s lip quivers as he frowns. “Don’t be an asshole. I need you to do me a favor…”

“No,”

“Stan, you gotta listen; it’s important, seriously,”

“No,”

“ _Stan,_ come on, don’t be _lame_.”

“Is there anything you actually want to talk about? How’s your ass doing?”

“Fuck you, Stan, and fuck all of you,” Cartman scowls. “No one has touched my ass, and you’re all shit friends,” he puts the phone back on the hook. Stan watches as he calls for the guards to claim him.

He stands up and turns to his friends, “well, that was… something.” He shifts his eyes to Kyle, “guess he didn’t want to talk to you.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t at least want to scream Jew in my face,”

Kenny sniggers beside him. Stan’s eyes follow Kenny’s elbow as he hits it into Kyle’s rib cage — the two still close by, standing together and laughing. “Aw, Ky, you _sad_?” Kenny asks, looking up at him.

“Very much _not,_ ” Kyle shakes his head.

“Can we just go?” Stan requests before he takes it upon himself to head towards the exit. He leads them out; leaving a few steps between himself and the trio. After passing through security again, they walk back into the free world and Stan yet again distances himself from the group.

He makes it a point to get the passenger seat. However on the ride home, Kenny plays his music much louder than before; resulting in less conversation. He wants to talk to him, but feels as though this is a more _one-on-one_ conversation.

Kenny takes them to Stan’s house, and his friends come inside to hang out. His mother cooks them dinner. They play PS4. They talk about South Park and Cartman. They talk about college and sports. Kenny asks if Craig can come over.

Stan doesn’t know why he feels any jealousy towards Craig, _still._ They are not even hooking up, or dating. Even if Craig and Kenny were dating _though_ — it should not matter to him. He is in a relationship.

_And oh shit. He never texted her back._

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Stan mumbles as he pulls his phone from his pocket to see two missed calls and a few texts. He frowns. He turned his phone on silent when they went to visit Cartman. He excuses himself from the basement and heads upstairs.

He peers over his shoulder and down the hall for his parents before he makes the call. She doesn’t answer which is not surprising to him, only because he has blown her off all day and she is probably doing the same now. He starts a text and writes out an apology, stalling his lungs as he does.

He frowns at the screen as he sees the bubbles that indicate typing. They disappear after a moment, but Stan’s gaze remains steady on his screen. After thirty-seconds, his phone screen goes black from a lack of use.

He huffs out a breath and leans against the wall, staring up at the wood paneled ceiling. He does not know what it is about South Park that turns him into the world’s biggest douche, but somehow, it always seems to happen.

A moment or so later, he hears _thumps_ behind the basement door. He stares at it, wondering who it will be. A few seconds later, he has his answer. _Kenny._

Kenny closes the door behind him, a tight smile across his face.

He has been quiet all night — at least in regards to _Stan._ He didn’t seem to have a problem talking to Kyle or Butters though. His eyes fall back down as he stares at his Lock Screen —no notifications in sight.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Stan purses his lips to the side and inwardly feels a smile coming on. He tries to hold it back.

“Paradise seems a bit much, but… yeah.”

Silence.

“If it’s not paradise, then why aren’t you continuing to travel to find paradise?”

Stan picks his head up to look at Kenny. He cannot resist the bubble of laughter that erupts from his chest. “I mean, we haven’t been together that long, and sometimes _paradise_ takes time.”

Kenny shrugs and looks down, “guess so.”

Silence hangs between them again; tension casting a long shadow behind their words and interactions. Stan wants to say something, but struggles. Eventually, he just gives up and bows his head down.

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“Like I said — it just — it’s new.”

“We’ve talked within the last month.”

Stan’s brain stalls. He has no explanation. He just… couldn’t bring himself to mention her. “I don’t know, all right?” he shakes his head, keeping his eyes downcast. “I just — it’s _weird_ talking about it with you,”

“ _Weird_ — what makes it weird?”

Stan’s brain stalls again. Part of him wonders if that was just a very vivid fever dream that happened last winter on his porch. It _felt_ real — it is something he does not want to revisit. “I don’t know. It just is,” he lifts his gaze up to Kenny.

Through his eyes, he begs him to drop it.

Kenny lips press together tightly. His amber eyes burn with question and _demand_ but Kenny knows him well. He knows what he is asking, and he accepts it. “Okay. Well, what’s her name?”

“Samantha,” Stan says. “But I call her Sammi,”

Kenny nods, and looks away. “Cool.”

“Yeah,”

And it is weird.

It is very weird to talk to Kenny about this.

Stan knows why. Kenny knows why.

And they’ll just pretend to be clueless.


End file.
